Mason Savage's Story

Mason Savage opened the door to the famed establishment, and had to stifle the urge to chuckle at the Terran business. From what he understand, the establishment was managed to a decrepit, underpowered Aschen firm, yet operated a staff of exclusively Terran and unaffiliated employees. If Mason didn't laugh at the sorry excuse for a 'bar', though, the young business entourage beside him did. Under his breath, the Scatterran planted a hand on his stomach and steadied himself for a moment before Mason let the door close behind the two, and pressed his palms outward.
"What 're you laughing at? This is Terra -- this is business, baby!" Mason's voice would carry a heavy cheer to it, the suited Savage brother glancing about the bar while walking for the bar.
"Look at it like this, you either waste our grant in Outland, or we waste it here -- and I think here, will be much better," Mason said before claiming his stool at the bar. One hand fidgeted with his tie for a moment, while the other pounded a hand on the counter.
"Now -- how about I get myself a goddamn drink, Waters, I was on that fucking bulk for weeks." Mason's voice seemed to anger at the mention of his travel, that was of course, until the Savage broke open his wallet and ordered his first drink of the new night.

Mason Savage cocked his brow as the lawyer beside him waved off from the bar with a phone planted at his ear. Disappearing toward the bathroom, Mason noticeably stood from his stool and shrugged his shoulders in rejection as his entourage took a noticeable exit. Under his breath, the Savage cursed the types of friends one made in big business, but as the waiter dropped the first of his Mannten ale at his seat Mason seemed to cheer at the arrival.
"Fine, fiiine, you take that phonecall, fucker. I've got enough drink for both," Mason replied to himself with a shake of his head. As the CEO of the Massersmat corporation took his first drink, Mason tilted the mug back and downed well over half of the brew before replacing it on the counter. Making a point to keep himself clean, he traced a hand down the breast of the suit before turning his head toward Waters, the lawyer having finally returned from the bathroom.
" -- If you took a call from James, again, I'll make sure you get a check of jack shit next closing call," He pointedwith one finger as the Scatterran took a seat beside him. Though the two appeared far different, Waters looked like he was easily pushing 50, they were good friends. As the famed Aschen admiral approached the duo, Waters stiffened his resolve while Mason stood from his seat and offered a hand to the Aschen.
"Admiral McGregor ... I'm here for some constructing, this is Jason Waters, my Liaison Consultant. Massersmat's been contracted out to build the new star lift for the city."

Mason Savage watched as the waitress planted a bottle of Stovnoski in front of Waters as he followed the Admiral intently. The McGregor clan had won some fame in the Coalition media years before the first Terran conflict; the omnipotent dictator of the Aschen hold above Terra. Mason had just been elevated to the construction department of Massersmat when the conflict began, now, nearly two decades later, Mason was the tabloid figurehead of Scatterran large business and the new, young face of Scatter.
"Aaaaah, I remember hearing about that on our way from Tyro. Tech Con's reopening the trinum mines -- Trinum, trinium, however the fuck you say that -- those ones in South Africa, huh?" Mason recalled while taking a drink from the Mannten; a Hykan ale that blended seasonal hops into a rather tasty brew.
"Yeah, whole damn department's put about 4 trillion down for the star elevator -- hopefully won't be the first, though. I'm tellin' ya', if I spend my whole commercial career building fucking star elevators ... "

Mason Savage wiped away a thin film of ale from his lips with one finger and dabbed it away with a shake. As Waters nailed back a shot of Stovnoski, Mason planted one elbow on the counter. With Tech-Con reopening it's business on the planet, Mason as well aware of the competition that would more than likely replace the camaraderie in the coming months. Business was harsh, but Massersmat was looking at contracts in Western Russia, the Indian Republics and North Africa in the coming years. Hundreds of trillions of Cays in revenue and profit to be had on this planet, someone just had to turn the faucet on.
"Right? They blow the shit out of the lift, then two days later -- here comes the RCBA, 'we need a 450 kilo lift on Terra'. 'Y'know how much it costs just to get the bulkers to Olympia?' I tell 'em, they wrote us a check for 600 trillion and here we are ... "

Mason Savage rolled his eyes at the perceived Coalition efficiency; true, star elevators often took months, even years to construct and were often a waste of using bulk liners or more modern forms of transportation, but no one could deny the sheer revenue that came from the operation of a star elevator. Lifts that had been constructed by Massersmat in the Frontiers and the Razorbacks were still pumping out profit after years of service. Hell, 34 percent of Massermat's annual 3,000 trillion revenue came from the freighting on the three hundred lifts operated by the company.
"Tell me about it -- Lifts are where the income's at, though, at least for springboarding -- " Vertical mergers was strictly prohibited in Coalition business, but operating a large percentage of another producer wasn't!
" -- Lotta' frakkers on this dirtball, though, I heard some Ivoryblade popped a whole van of those Hataf shitheads a few days ago." Mason was dead wrong, of course, the Ivoryblade contractors had forged the reports.
"But that don't mean this place is all bad, though ... ohno ... not at all," Mason's voice seemed to falter for a moment as he noticed a woman in an undershirt and jeans, for a brief thought Mason let his mind wander about possibilities behind closed doors with the more ... attractive of the Terran population.
"Back on track, though, I've got about six hundred workers and not a damn rifle between any of them. The Bureau stripped all the weaponry before we left Tyro ... bunch a fuckin' liberals."

Mason Savage was already moving beyond the talk of nagging some Terran leech for the time planet-side. The Scatterran was an entrepreneur, and despite his desire to remain, the sound of his data device chirping in his breast pocket drew his attention; reaching up with one hand, Mason drew the receiver out from his pocket and glanced warily at the screen.
"You mean soma' those Aschen light-up toys? Hell, I'll probably pick a few up tonight -- Some Libyans want me to survey a site for a Colodium synthetic plant ... These douches don't even have their fucking country in order, you been watching the news?" Mason said, his own hands creating their own image as he tapped in a few texts in response to the message on the screen.
"Family though -- fuckin' family -- " Mason replied as he brought the phone to his ear for a moment.
"Mason Savage," He introduced while standing from his stool. The distinct voice of James, the oldest of the Savage brothers, could be heard on the other line in an angered tone.
"Shit ... Admiral -- Raphael, I've gotta' take this damn call. J's still shitting fucking squirrels about my little run on Terra," Mason replied to the Aschen while he produced a small data chip that activated into a holographic ID card; containing an address and a number for contact.
"I'm definitely serious about those lite-brites though, those heaters ... Hey -- Waters, get your fucking head out of your ass!" Mason ordered while turning toward the Hykan, whom quickly grabbed his bottle of vodka.
"No -- Not you James!" He shouted into the phone one final time before turning back to Raphael.
"I've got that line on me thirty-seven," 'Thirty-seven' was the Scatterran take on a much used Terran termed 'twenty-four-seven', the Savage appeared to be taking to the culture rather well.
"And I've got this preeetty kickin' penthouse in the city, but the partyin' can come later." Mason replied a final time before placing the phone back to his mouth and turning for the exit.
"Yes! Yes! I packed

Yes! Yes! God dammit, I packed the underwear! Noo! It's not the hooker's!

Mason Savage entered the bar amidst an entourage of four other men dressed in the plainclothes colors of the Massersmat security team. Two of the men were armed, at face value at least, Lashkav machine pistols held tightly in one hand. All of the men were armed however, nearly 12 sidearms displaced between the Security Chief, who stood beside Mason, were between the five. Mason's own P-45 was tucked against his chest beneath the dress jacket.
" -- Now all you gotta' worry about, when you have people who's entire networth won't even buy you a lotto-ticket, is giving them something better to obsess on, like not dying." Mason's voice was strained and condescending; the Security Chief bit on the unlit cigar and shook his head to the CEO.
"All I gotta' worry about is makin' sure you don't wind up in some podcast where those spearchuckers go cut 'cher 'ead off. Now goin' get 'cher sorry ass outta' my face and get a drink." The Security Chief's large arms were crossed over his chest as he accompanied Mason to the bar, where he quickly took a seat and activated a news-feed option in the holographic menu. In a few seconds, Savage was reviewing the afternoon's business readings -- not just from Terra, but the entirety of the new Scatterran operations in the local region.
"Sure, yeah, but did you have to blow up an elementary school? I mean no one was in it thankfully, but you know how boring Mondays are -- there's nothing to do if you're a kid in some third-world country with no school on Monday!"

Mason Savage idly tapped at an icon of Massersmat's Terran operator, Viakon, and watched the ticker readings from the businesses daily run alongside it's parent-company on the Coalition Stock Exchange. Inadvertently, in the last decade the Scatterran Stock Exchange had become a de facto observant to the fledgling galactic economy; now, in the 27th century, the SSE monitored and traded the values of over a billion corporations, from agricultural producers on Terra to native companies of the Coalition.
"Sixty-three points ... That's the first Terran corporation the FSM ever wrote, eighty-cays Cays a share." Mason grinned to himself while putting his PDA away; noticing a woman, an obvious Aschen tourist, waving him over, the Scatterran cocked a brow before turning back toward the bar and shrugging his shoulders.
"Don't know where I'd rather be though, y'know? Here with these weirdo's in Wing," Mason stopped to watch the television set depicting a group of Coalition marines watching a factory burn in the fury of a firebombing; a news feed from a well-known Terran network following riots and civil unrest that had erupted in the Frontiers of the Coalition.
"Or stuck in that stupid shit ... "

Mason Savage nodded to the Aschen for a moment while the Security Chief inspected a holographic display by his seat. The video feed shifted to an overhead view from the hull of a loitering airjet. As his drink was brought to him, Mason fidgeted with his dress shirt a moment and loosened his tie before chuckling under his breath at the images on the screen.
"'Eh ... You should see 'em on Tuesdays, they make big tire fires and pray to the Gods." Mason's joke got a heart laugh from the Security Chief, causing Mason to grin brightly.
"I'm here to oversee the construction of the star lift at the space port."

Mason Savage quietly nodded to the security entourage ahead of him as they entered the open facility that had once been a war-scarred carter of land during the Terran Conflicts. The seating was arranged facing toward a large stage in the center of the massive complex. Appearing at the main entrance, Mason Savage had come to usher in the last of the visitors to their seats with a sharp hand and quick wit. Mason had just finished greeting a local employer of the Terran company Viakon before looking around to watch the stream of observers and guests moving toward their seats. Attendance was fairly relaxed, people on the street were offered the ability to observe in the stadium as well, and few were turned away at the doors. As Mason Savage meandered his way toward the entrance, several other Massersmat security officials moved to address the situation to him.
"So everything is alright ... And are you sure those Tech Con didn't send anyone? I could've sworn I called for that McGregor guy." Mason requested, his voice spiked with agitation. The ceremony was proceeding quickly, and the youngest Savage wanted to prepare an impression for the new Scatterran image.
"They'll figure it out, Mason. You gotta' get to the stage and start the ceremony. Counter Balance wants the display to go smooth." Waters said while shoving his way through the group of Scatterrans.
"Mason, finish up here then get your ass to the stage. We can't have just those two Coalition fuck-nuts up their with ours gun!" He griped over the crowd as Mason broke away from the group, prepared to receive the last of the coming guests.

Mason Savage watching the InOps soldier approach, Savage glanced over his shoulder to flare the bird one quick moment before greeting the woman. Tugging his dress back, for a moment the sleek fabric and model of the holster near his chest could be seen, he waved the Aschen forward as the explained of McGregor's late arrival. Several figures were present at the convention to meet the former Admiral of the Aschen Navy. The introductions were for another time however; with the Aschen operative, Mason waved over the security team to handle the entrance before he led the woman through the center walk to the stage.
"Alright. The Admiral -- Security Chief Mcgregor is seated near our VIP's section on the far end of the complex, good seats for the whole show." He said, passing by several guards equipped with machine pistols and even canines rushing through the aisles with an active snout pressed to the ground. The beasts were larger than domesticated breeds, appearing fairly ruthless in their search.
"Security is hoo-ooly shit high -- Coalition protocol when Aschen and Terran visitors are received. You can take a seat at the McGregor section over there." Mason pointed far toward a small rise that seated several Coalition and Terran representatives that could flip the bill.
"We'll be getting the ceremony started soon, very soon. I'm sure the Chief will be sure to make it."

Mason Savage moved away from the Aschen seating and was quickly at the foot of the stage. Ahead, there had already been prepared a platform for the display, and two armored figures in black standing atop the platform with sleek weapons in hand. As Savage moved for the stage, a ring of security units formed at the separate chambers to observe the presentation and subsequent ceremony. Stepping up toward the stage, Mason looked over his shoulder to see Waters waving a small communication device; stopping on stage for a moment, he quickly received the electronic piece and fitted it into his ear before continuing on stage.
"Alright -- There we go, give it up for the statues everyone; we got them on discount. Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you the Counter Balance project Warrior team." Mason Savage waved his hands toward the duo at the platform, whom lowered shrugged off the attention loosely. The two soldiers were entirely bulwarked in armor, appearing more suited to direct deployment than the demilitarized Terra.
"But on with the show -- it's not the statues I want you to see. We have several contributors to the construction and empowerment of not only Terra, but the Coalition as well. With ever adapting products coming from across the galaxy, it's tactics that incorporate all aspects of management and adaptation that can reclaim a planet and repair it." He said, stepping up a slight incline toward the armored soldiers as he spoke.
"And it's with technologies like those that have resulted in the Warrior project. The weapon they are holding is the latest evolution of the Hybrid Rifle technology; the latest version, Hybrid Mark 2, combines several engineered advancements in the construction." Mason now stood ahead of the armored two, beside where a large lift was prepared for later in the show.
"With that, let me welcome you all to the ceremony tonight." Mason shifted with a grin before nodding toward one of the agents.

Mason Savage stepped back on the platform while observing the internals of the weapon. Up close, it was much easier to notice the fine workings of the weapon. Several screens were located around the stadium for the presentation, but those important were seated close enough to clearly see the weapon.
"Combat has adapted, and so must it's equipment. The Mark 2 displays clear accuracy over the most precise of Coalition weapons." Mason said while his hand tapped at a small holographic display linked into a device at his side. As several holographic targets appeared facing toward the open and uninhabited area of the stadium, Mason nodded to the two agents.

Mason Savage threw a shrug toward the far end of the stage before nodding toward the large airscreen overhead and smirking. With a quick wave of his hand, both of the agents stopped their action and unloaded the weapons. Turning toward the airscreen while eagerly cradling the weapons. As Mason heard the woman to be on the behalf of Graystone, Mason took a quick glance off stage before returning.
" -- And there, ladies and gentlemen, is our first bidder. Graystone Industries, supporting the Terran economic acceleration." Mason waved toward the airscreen as a thunderous applaud came from the mention of the planet.

Mason Savage crossed his arms over his chest before looking across the stage toward a group of Coalition marines waiting at a concealed exit. Looking over his shoulder toward the two soldiers before dropping his hands to his sides.
"I believe that is ... an introvert problem instead -- Though if you desire freedom, you need the equipment to achieve it." He returned, a brow arching before he pointed toward the Doctor Graystone.
"The Aschen have plenty invested in this planet, along with the Coalition ... Terra's a rich little marble, yeah?" He requested before a hologram activated, displaying the current cost of the Hybrid mK. 2 at 54,000 US dollars, several other currencies displayed in active updates.
"The mass production of the Mark 2 has given the company the opportunity to sell exclusively to the private corporation."

Mason Savage waved away the airscreen, which was quickly replaced by the security intelligence with broadcasts of deals flooding in for the purchase and trade of the Mark 2. As Mason departed the stage, the two soldiers moved along quickly with Mason as he descended the stage, a rather bitter look on his face.
"That wasn't supposed to be part of the show. Not at all." He grumbled before passing some of the Aschen and Scatterran representatives, stopping to see McGregor, he waved toward the Admiral as the soldiers continued and disappeared into the network beneath the complex.
"Chief! Knew you'd make it, your little birdie has a loud mouth though. Do you know what that's about?"

Mason Savage took the cheques in one hand and pocketed them with a confirmed wave. Tech Con received an exclusive break from the agreement with the Coalition manufacturers; practically half the price sheared in cubits to acclimate to an Aschen market. As the tickets began to increase, Savage was greeted by several officials from the Massersmat security team; one of the mercenaries bearing a shotgun at his side as he approached.
"So it's selling, and that's all that matters. That's just publicity -- a hell of a lot of publicity."

The youngest of the clan had spent the day travelling through a string of small venues and show businesses until he reached a block of time about mid-day where he settled down for what he called 'the tough work'. Though Mackerweln had grown as a corporation to even rival the Coalition's "Big Brother" corporations it had always remained with its roots, capitalist though they were the Savage clan knew an empire was only as good as the tiniest man in it. After an expedition to Caprica, he was left believing these ideals more and more as he waited on the side of the road in the plaza. Beside him, a pair of bodyguards spoke with his chief operations officer, a Hykan, and Savage was the first one to see the limousine as it reached the plaza.

The crowd around them was still jeering as Mason let his hands come out from behind his back to greet the Hagan. Cameras flashed to capture the image and the moment and Savage made a slight indication to the sunglasses hanging from his jacket pocket. "Don't worry about a thing, we've just been fancying the locale."

Withdrawing his hand Mason extended a palm to the Hykan. "This is Mister Admoren, been organizing my itineraries and events on my trip through Aschen space." He said, and put both his hands back in front of him. "You Hagans draw quite a crowd!"

"You Hagans draw quite a crowd!"

Dominic laughed warmly. "Not all of us! You should see what happens when my sister comes to town. I think I've literally seen people take off their shoes and throw them." He nodded to the Hykan. "Mr. Admoren, a pleasure. I hope your experiences in our lovely little corner of the galaxy haven't proved too strenuous." He smiled, looking at each of the two men in turn. "Political tensions as of late are high, as you doubtless know, but there's still a great deal of untapped economic potential in the Empire." He gestured towards a nearby gourmet restaurant, Yayin, their designated place of meeting. "But I'll bore you to death with the details over lunch. Shall we?"

Whisper's skywalk overlooked the restaurant directly. She would have a clear, unhindered view of Dominic.